Picking Up
by Fox with a Ruby Red Glow
Summary: The final battle against Voldemort brought much death and pain. Two people who have gone through their own personal turmoils find solace in one another. They slowly begin picking up the pieces. Harry/Molly
1. End to an Era

Long disclaimer, but please read. I do not own anything related to Harry Potter. This story is not being written for profit. This story (especially the first chapter) might be a bit depressing. The first chapter is going to make mention of a number of character deaths. You are warned. The romance aspect comes in later. Oh, and this story ignores Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows. I haven't read DH yet and I just don't like HBP. First chapter is just describing the battle and it's aftermath. This is a May/December romance, so if you have problems with a older woman and a younger man becoming romantically linked, don't read it.

Picking Up

Chapter 1: End to an Era

The attack had begun so suddenly, the first casualties barely knew what had happened. In a flash of malefic magic, the millennium old magic school of Hogwarts had become the scene of a grand battle between the forces of good and evil. It had always been an unspoken understanding that the final battle would take place here. The faculty and older students had been the first defenders, quickly being bolstered by the aurors, order members and various good samaritans, all of whom were pouring in to the grounds as quickly as their various modes of transport could carry them. Offensive and defensive magics of all kinds flew heavily through the air, from the cavernous great hall and corridors all the way down to the lake.

The younger students had taken refuge in the great hall, guarded by an assortment of their older peers, led by Professors Sprout, Sinistra and Lupin and Defense Association members Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom and Virginia Weasley. The courtyard was defended by several alumni, hailing from all four houses; Wood, Bell, Flint, Chang, Clearwater and half a dozen others, against a group of death eaters led by the Lestranges, Bellatrix and Rudolphus. Lucius Malfoy was in charge of a group trying to get to the castle, but being staunchly opposed by nearly the entire Weasley family (minus the two youngest) and, oddly enough, the kraken in the lake. Any death eater who got too close to the Forbidden Forest was skewered, either by a bolt from the crossbow of Professor Hagrid, or one of the spears of the centaurs of the forest. At the base of the stairs leading to the astronomy tower, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger led a small platoon of defenders in holding off the others who tip the balance of the battle occurring at the top. The battle that would decide everything.

Atop the astronomy tower, two mortal foes faced off. One, a tall creature that couldn't even be called a man any more, with slightly scaly flesh and red slits for eyes; the other a young man, just 2 months shy of his 18th birthday, with messy black hair, glasses and a fierce look on his face. The spells issuing forth from the wands of Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort came fast and furious, the walls of the area having fallen before the multitude of curses from the two combatants. Harry ducked very briefly behind a fallen chunk of stone, flinching heavily as a green curse all but shattered the makeshift cover. He knew if this came down to a really protracted fight, he would lose, his opponents superior experience and power winning out. An idea flowed into his head, and desperation made it his plan. He stood straight, wand outstretched, pointed at the inhuman foe. The dark lord smiled to himself and sent a killing curse at his young enemy. Harry didn't dodge, he didn't duck, he didn't try and block it, instead he cried out the incantation for a disarming hex, aimed not at the dark lord, but at his curse. The two wands were quickly linked by the golden thread, and their wielders levitated inside a matching orb, twin looks of determination on their faces. Harry pushed every ounce of willpower into his wand, the golden bead making a snail's pace toward the other wand. When it connected, and visions of the last people Voldemort had killed floated out, Harry took his opportunity and tucked his wand up his sleeve, dashing headlong at the tall thing, grabbing a sizable chunk of fallen masonry as soon as he landed.

Voldemort was finally able to banish the visions that were plaguing him, and found himself mere inches away from the young hero. The boy's form crashed into him, pinning him to the ground, wand falling out of his grasp. Harry knelt over his nemesis, raised the brick over his head and brought it heavily down on his face once, twice, three times, more. The improvised weapon did its grisly work, every slam making the already unrecognizable face even worse. Harry's only thought was of finishing this.

He struck for his parents, murdered in their prime.

He struck for Sirius, who died defending him.

He struck for the Longbottoms, unable to even recognize their own son.

He struck against oppression.

He struck against fear.

He struck against evil.

He struck to avenge all the good people the monster had ever hurt

He struck until his arms were tired, his hands cut and bleeding from the rough stone, and his heart felt as though it would explode.

Then he stood up and surveyed his handiwork; where once there had been a face, was only a puddle of blood, grey matter and bone fragments. He felt his bile rise and he emptied his stomach onto the cold floor. He pulled his wand from his voluminous robe sleeves and trudged wearily down the tower stairs. He arrived at the bottom and was immediately greeted with a crushing hug from a bushy haired bookworm.

"Harry!", she sobbed "You did it!" Her companion also stepped up.

"Good job mate.". Harry looked at the various death eaters the two and their followers had managed to defeat in guarding the stairs. Ron took Harry's arm and put it over his shoulders, supporting the barely standing savior. Hermione took the other limb and the three headed outside.

As soon as the three passed the doors to the grounds, a great cry arose from those left standing; a cry both victorious, and mournful. Victory had come to the forces of good, but the cost was immense. The dead and detained of the dark lords forces littered the ground, and they only just outnumbered the felled defenders. The young hero felt a deep pain in his heart.

"So much death. So much pain."

Professors Sprout, Vector, Mossley and Dumbledore were dead. Luna and Neville had died, falling in to one another as they did. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Alastor Moody, and over two and a half dozen others were the losses of the aurors. Over half of the Order of the Phoenix were casualties. Many dozens more had fallen as well, and nearly everyone had some form of injury from minor cuts and burns, to Ginny Weasley's missing left leg, Remus Lupin's missing ear and useless right arm and Rubeus Hagrid's severe burns. Harry looked over and saw a somewhat plump woman with hair of a fiery red that matched any of her children, weeping openly. Molly Weasley stood fixated on the bodies of her husband Arthur, and Bill, Percy and George, three of her sons. Nearly every eye of the standing, beleaguered fighters was turned in Harry's direction. They wanted him to say something, and it was obvious that the entire British magical community would hear it at some point. He removed his arms from his friends shoulders, and they went down to stand with the crowd. He stood shakily, his many wounds telling on him, cleared his throat and spoke.

"Comrades. Allies. Friends. This is a day of great joy, we no longer need to fear a power hungry mad man or his insane followers. We have peace at last. But this is also a day of mourning, for we have lost many people who are dear to us. They will be missed. We have won the war, and evil is driven back, vanquished; though we must never forget the incalculable price we have paid for this victory. They all fought valiantly, heroes every one, and what they died for is something that heroes have died for since humanity first rose from the mists of time. They died for peace, freedom, justice, equality and the light that lives in the heart of good people. They died so children can grow up happy and free. They died so we can all live. There is little left to say. All we can do is try and rebuild our broken country and our shattered lives and work toward the future. We will live on, so their sacrifice will not have been in vain. We will flourish, we will grow, but we will never, ever, forget.", and with those final words delivered, Harry's injuries caught up with him, and he collapsed, alive but unconscious.

AN: Okay, this chapter alternates between somewhat depressing and pretty cheesy, but I just wanted to paint the backdrop for this story, the story will pick up several months later. It is a romance between Harry and Molly Weasley, so if that disturbs you, go read something else. I do have a bad habit of not finishing stories, but I am going to endeavor to finish this one. Please review, I want to know what people think of it, love it or hate it. It's going to be a few chapters at least. Thank you for reading. Oh, and that 'He struck' thing, I borrowed from the book Redwall, but I thought it fit.


	2. Sifting Through the Ashes

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. This chapter marks the beginning of the romance portion of the story. Also, near the end of the chapter is a brief description of the goings on prior to sex, nothing graphic, and this is an M rated story, but you have been warned.

Picking Up

Chapter 2: Sifting Through the Ashes

Seven months after the battle, and much had changed, though there was still a world of work to do before Britain could be where it was before the war. The months of June through to November had been proliferated with wakes, celebration, changes of office and general upheaval.

Minister Fudge's incompetence and pigheadedness had resulted in a good deal of avoidable death and destruction, so one of the first orders of the day was his immediate eviction from office and his replacement by Madam Amelia Bones, generally considered the most competent employee of the Ministry of Magic. Madam Bones' vacated position was filled by the most senior living auror, Nymphadora Tonks (who opposed her new job, and the nameplate on her new desk, kicking and screaming).

Azkaban was leveled and rebuilt so as to not rely on the Dementors, which had sided with Voldemort and were now being hunted by an elite force of aurors. The old fortress was replaced by a new one, sturdy and well designed and warded until the very walls practically hummed with magic.

The faculty of Hogwarts were shifted around some; Minerva McGonagall became the Headmistress, Filius Flitwick took on the duties of Deputy Headmaster in addition to his existing ones, Remus Lupin took over as head of Gryffindor, and Cyrus Sinistra as head of Hufflepuff.

Much legislature was passed; werewolves were given many rights that had been previously denied them and funding was put toward finding a cure. House elves were given the right to payment if they so chose. A great many businesses and homes were rebuilt after their destruction.

A central figure to all of this was Harry himself. Between the fortunes of Potter, Black and Dumbledore (which had been left to him as the aged wizard had had no family left) Harry was the single wealthiest person in Britain, and he put his money to good use. His vaults were opened to help with the rebuilding, research for a lycanthropy cure, healing for those who were harmed in the war and couldn't afford it themselves, and scores of other worthy causes. After the final battle, Harry had in fact received dozens of job offers; seeker positions from 8 separate quidditch teams, Defence teacher at Hogwarts, a high executive position at Gringotts, even Minister of Magic. He declined them all, fearing they might take away from his time aiding the renewal. He became a figurehead; displaced families were housed at some of his various manors until new homes could be made available, tens of thousands of galleons flowed like water from his vaults, and much of his time was spent either speaking to the public, aiding in matters of state, making diplomatic visits to other nations for various purposes or getting down and dirty with the construction crews. The Boy Who Lived had become a great man; a man his parents, godfather and mentor would have been infinitely proud of.

On the other hand, even with England slowly resurrecting around her, Molly Weasley was in a state of constant mourning. The death of her husband of 27 years, as well as three of her beloved sons on the very same day had rocked the normally jovial woman to her very core. Hardly a day arrived where she really smiled and the Burrow now seemed a haunted shell of itself, empty except for her the majority of days. Ron and Hermione had married in July, and moved into a small home in Hogsmeade. Ginny was at school. She had occasional visitors, but most of them found her fairly depressing, so the visits were, more often than not, quite brief. It is in this state that she received a visitor on a dark, rainy night in the last week of November...

* * *

The knocking at the door flung the 46 year old woman out of her reverie and she hurried over to the front door, plain brown house dress fluttering about her ankles and hanging somewhat loosely on her frame. Months of an irregular (at best) appetite had worked to slimming down her body, her once plump figure had given way to one a fair bit thinner, still possessing a healthy portion of meat on her bones, though perhaps being a little bit sickly. Late nights and abrupt awakenings had formed deep bags under her eyes and her often being indoors had led to her once cheery complexion becoming somewhat pale. Several strands of red hair had sprung from her usual simple coif to hang about her face.

Opening the door, she was shocked to see a young man, a few inches taller than her own 5 foot 6, normally messy jet black hair matted down by the deluge, glasses dripping, and wet clothes hugging a fit, if somewhat thin and lanky, body. As the widowed woman opened the door, the young man's handsome features split into a smile.

"Good evening Missus Weasley."

"H...Harry? Come...come in, you're getting soaked."

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley.", her features became somewhat downcast.

"Please Harry, dear, you're an adult now, you can call me Molly."

"Very well, Molly. It's been a while, I must say."

"Harry, why are you here? Last I heard you were in Belgium asking for aid in the reconstruction"

"I was, but I ended up in the neighborhood, and thought I'd drop in for a bit."

"Oh...Ron's in Hogsmeade and Ginny's at Hogwarts."

"I know. I've seen them fairly recently, I'm here to visit you."

"Thank you Harry, dear, it's been a little while since I've had company.", she looked around the living room. "Or tidied up for that matter. One second.". She took her wand in hand and proved why she was the queen of domestic magic. A couple of short minutes later, the living room was, well, livable. "Won't you please have a seat, Harry?"

"Of course, Molly, just one second.", here she noticed his wand was aimed toward the kitchen and as he spoke, a steaming kettle was making its way leisurely through the air to the low living room table, followed by a pair of simple mugs. Harry had poured a steaming cup for each of them, he sank into the well worn sofa and got comfortable. After a deep sip, his face turned serious and he looked at her.

"How have you been holding up, Molly?", she showed him a wobbly smile.

"Oh just fine Harry, all of my", she choked slightly "remaining children send me a bit of money every month and I have groceries delivered. I'm doing fine."

"That's not what I meant and you know it. How are you holding up?", tears began to softly trickle down her cheeks.

"It's been over 6 months, and I still have a hard time believing they're dead. I still wake up every morning expecting to see Arthur watching me from his side of the bed. I keep wanting another argument with Bill over his earring. And Percy, he had just come back to us, and I lost him forever. It makes me feel so cold and alone when I think of it."

"You're not alone Molly, not in any sense of the word. You have friends, you have Ron, and Ginny, and Fred and Charlie. You have Hermione. You have me. Everyone lost friends and loved ones in the war.", his attempt at soothing the distraught woman burned a look of anger onto her face.

"What do you know?! Your family was already dead long before the war! You don't even remember them.", she froze solid as she realized what she'd said. Her companion went deathly silent and stared at the cup held in his now shaking hands. "Oh God, Harry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean...", her apologies died in her throat as his even gaze met her own.

"You're wrong, Molly. I lost as much as anyone. Sirius, Dumbledore, dozens of friends. A voice in my mind keeps telling me that if I'd just found a way to confront Voldemort sooner, if I'd been able to figure out exactly what he was planning, if I was just a little better at being the hero, I might have saved them. Maybe not all of them, but at least the ones who didn't have to die. I feel the weight of each and every person who died because of that maniac. So go ahead, tell me I didn't lose anything.", his words started with a very even tone, but rising in pitch, the last line being nearly snarled at her.

"I'm so sorry Harry. You've lost as much as I have, but you always seem so brave, and proud, and good in the news."

"I am because I have to be. I still have nightmares, not about Voldemort, but about all of them, the victims of our senseless war. That's why I came here tonight. This is one of the few places I ever felt really safe when I was younger. You were perhaps the first person to ever show me unconditional love. That's why I'm here. That's why I love you.", the older of the two froze completely up and the cup fell from her hands, shattering on the floor. A simple spell or two from either one would have cleaned it up, but neither could be bothered.

"You what?"

"I love you, Molly Weasley. I have for a few years now. At first it was just a schoolboy crush on the first woman to ever seem to genuinely care for me. Then, as I saw more and more of you, I fell deeper and deeper in love; your grace under fire, your compassion, your forgiveness, your strength, everything! It all stoked the flame in my heart. I. Love. You."

"But it's..."

"What? Improper? Wrong? When have I ever cared about propriety. I heard about the pain you're going through from Ron and Ginny and I swore I would do anything in my power to make sure you never had to cry again."

"But Harry...Arthur...", he interrupted her.

"Would want you to move on! Maybe not with me, but don't sit around your house mourning for the rest of your life. You're still a vibrant and beautiful woman with more love in your heart than you know what to do with. Go out, see the world, visit the other kids, help rebuild, something! The way things are you're slowly but surely killing the Molly Weasley I've known and fallen in love with.", by this time he had captured her wrists gently in his own, and his deep jade eyes gazed deeply into her own hazel ones. Her wet eyes closed and she breathed softly, his words obviously having an effect.

"Harry...it's late, perhaps we should retire. All of the rooms are still made up, pick whichever you like.", with this, she stood and headed up the stairs to her bedroom. Harry rose shortly after, making a beeline for Ron's old room.

* * *

Harry woke suddenly to a gentle, constant sound. Reaching for his glasses he glanced at the clock face. One hour after midnight stared back at him. Taking his wand in hand, he left the room to investigate the noise. Immediately after leaving the room, it was evident where it was coming from; the master bedroom. He snuck up and stealthily opened the door to find the woman of his dreams laying on her side in the double bed so her back was to the door. He ventured just inside.

"Molly.", it was hardly more than a whisper, but with her reaction, he might as well have screamed it. She stopped crying and turned over, almost in a panic.

"Harry...I was just thinking about what you said. I've been with Arthur for so long, that I don't know how to be with anyone else.", she looked up at him, night gown covering all but her head, arms and the lowest half of her shins, her legs splayed out to the side, her left arm supporting the weight of her upper body and red hair wild. Swallowing the lump in his throat, the young savior strode over to the bed, sitting on the edge, head turned to face her.

"That's something you learn from being with someone. I'm sure the connection and knowledge you and Arthur shared developed over the years you were together. If and when you find someone new, you'll start learning about them all over again.", as she watched him closely, her emotions overtook her sorrow and she leaned forward, placing her lips gently upon his. He was, of course, surprised at her actions, and returned the kiss, but not daring to deepen it, leaving that to her if she wished. After a minute, she ended the kiss and looked at him from a couple of inches away.

"Harry...what you said...I've been watching you grow up, I've seen you risk your own life for people you barely know, I've seen you protect people with no desire for compensation, I've seen you play peacemaker between my son and Hermione. I suppose if I were going to fall in love again, it would be with someone like you. And I'd like to try.", she gently took Harry's hands and placed them upon her cloth covered chest.

"Molly, are you sure you want this?", she nodded.

"Yes, Harry. I've been alone for so long now. I want to live again. I don't want to be cold when I sleep."

With that, she stood up, breaking the contact between his palms and her fleshy orbs, and undid the tie holding her night gown closed. It hung casually open, showing a stripe of flesh down to below her navel before she shrugged and it fell, pooling on the wooden floor at her feet. She looked deep into his eyes and he pulled off his shirt, his boxers now the only thing keeping them from mutual nudity. She helped ease them to the floor and sat astride his lap as he sat on the bed. She leaned down and kissed him again, this time steeling herself and prodding at his lips with her tongue, which he returned in kind as his erection pressed into her lower back. After a long, beautiful kiss, they broke off and he sent her a purposeful look, to which she nodded. He moved and gently lowered her onto her back on the bed, her head resting on the pillows. He moved again until he was over her, kissing her softly before ever so gently pushing inside her, muffling her moans with his mouth.

Their first night was not filled with burning passion, nor with animalistic lust; it was filled with soft slow motions, deep low moans, and gentle murmurs of love and assurance. Neither one of them was the ideal of beauty; him thin, scarred and inexperienced, her a bit sickly and pale, but together they were perfect. Lust and passion could wait for another night, tonight, it was just two people helping one another pick up the pieces.

AN: Alright, we've gotten to the Harry and Molly hooking up part. Sorry if they seem a bit out of character, but it's hard to write this kind of stuff. I am seriously considering continuing this story, doing the tale of their ongoing relationship, dealing with her kids, his friends and the magical world in general et cetera. Or I could end it here. Please review and tell me what you think I should do. Thank you.


	3. Waking Eyes

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry potter or anything associated with it. Reading the reviews I've gotten has prodded me to continue this, so here goes. This chapter is just a lighthearted filler until the next real chapter.

Picking Up

Chapter 3: Waking Eyes

Molly awoke as the mid-morning sun filtered through the window into her eyes. She realized a few things immediately; she wasn't alone in her bed, she was naked and she had just woken from the best sleep she'd had in months. The events of the previous night came back to her all at once, and she looked at her partner. Harry lay there, fast asleep, glasses on the bedside table and hair even messier than normal. He was laying on his back, she was using his chest as a pillow, a good deal of her upper body resting on his chest and his left arm around her, fingertips gently massaging her left breast even as he slumbered. She sighed deeply and snuggled her body against his, but her eyes caught on something; the wizard photograph of her late husband, Arthur, on the bedside table. From that vantage point, the magical imprint of him would have seen everything the two lovers had done on the marital bed. She felt momentarily guilty, even now feeling the mixed end results of their lovemaking drying on her thighs. The moving figure noticed she was looking at him and smiled, shooting her a thumbs up. Taking this as the good sign it was, she closed her eyes and lay her head on her young partner's chest, red hair pooling about her head. She was soon asleep once more.

Harry woke up a little while after Molly drifted off. He looked down at the spread of fiery hair arrayed on his chest and the angelic face it surrounded. He instantly remembered the night before and smiled, penis approaching half mast at the memories. To other people, she was past her prime; but to him she was as beautiful as any girl his age. Hopefully she would start eating properly again, so she could get back a little bit of her colour and a tiny bit of her cushioning. His left arm, still wrapped around her, stroked her back very gently, and he marveled at the tiny moan this elicited from the sleeping woman. He was hungry, and his stomach threatened to start rumbling very soon. He hadn't had much to eat the previous night, and he had ended the night with a rather long period of physical exertion. He slowly, precisely extracted himself from the small tangle of limbs and sat sideways on the bed, legs hanging off, reaching for his discarded boxers.

He was dressed in his sleepwear and halfway to the door when a creaky floorboard alerted and woke his companion. She sat up, nude from the waist up and not bothering to hold the blankets up to her chest, so her generous assets were on full display.

"Harry? Where are you going? Are you...ashamed of what we did?", she covered herself subconsciously, and he was back at the bed in a flash.

"Never, Molly. I was just getting up to make some breakfast.", and as if on cue, his stomach growled; a deep gurgling sound, which was harmonized after a second by her own higher pitched rumbling. They both laughed, and she got out of bed, taking up her dressing gown and putting it on, while Harry enjoyed the view. They descended the stairs together, walking the well worn path to the kitchen. In the domestic core of the house, she busied herself with juice and toast, while he dealt with eggs. As they sat down to the hastily prepared meal, they talked.

"Harry, is your intention for us to be...together?"

"Of course. I said I love you, and I meant it.", her eyes dropped to her plate, eagerly studying her toast.

"But, I'm so much older than you. I'm easily old enough to be your mother. What will people say?", he adopted a thoughtful look.

"Do you have any friends who will have a problem with your choosing me for this.?"

" I think most people's problems will be with your choosing me. I mean, you're Harry Potter! You're the richest person in England, a hero, member of the order of Merlin Second Class, extraordinarily powerful for someone who just graduated Hogwarts, famous, generous, kind, good-hearted and handsome to boot. You could have any woman, sorry, any COMBINATION of up to FOUR women with little trouble. You're the Magical Worlds most eligible bachelor, and yet you take up with me; a forty six year old widow.", this entire rant being done with a single breath exhibited just how powerful so many years shouting at unruly children had made her lungs. "And yes, I believe a number of people I know will oppose this. My children especially. I think this will raise a huge stink with a lot of people."

"Well, fuck them. I love you. You might love me. We're happy together and if they can't understand that, they can go to hell.", having never heard such language from the young man, Molly was shocked out of response for a moment. "If you feel better, we can keep this a secret for now, but I will be here whenever I have some spare time. I want to make this a real relationship, the kind I seem to be unable to get with girls my age." His eyes were twinkling in a very Dumbledore-esque manner as he said this. He stood and walked over to her, planting a deep, toe-curling kiss on her lips. "I have to go now, I need to be in London in twenty five minutes, but I will be back", here he reached down and grabbed a great handful of fleshy rump, "count on it."

With that, he spun on his heel, magicked himself dressed and was out the door. Molly rubbed the place he had grabbed her, then smiled like the Cheshire Cat, a smile that didn't disappear as she collected their breakfast things and washed them, humming slightly. _This is the dawn of a new chapter in my life, and I AM going to be happy_. This decision was at the forethought of her mind.

But deep at the back of her brain..._Playful Harry is so much more fun than moody Harry._ She rubbed her slightly sore rump and continued washing up, still smiling.

ANAlright, as I said, this is a more lighthearted chapter, just to fill the time until chapter 4. The two are going to have a pretty much unbreakable bond, so there's no 'do I love her, does she love me' crap, mostly just them dealing with other people who don't like them being together. I'm working on chapter 4 and will get it up when I can. Thank you, again, for reading.


	4. Red Handed

Disclaimer: Don't own anything recognizable. So don't bug me about it.

Picking Up

Chapter 4: Red Handed

The two lovers continued their affair in peace for some time, with Harry spending as much time as possible at the Burrow when his busy schedule allowed. The winter months came and went with the entire Weasley clan plus Harry gathering at the Burrow for the Winter holidays. No one figured out what was happening, though they all remarked about their happiness and relief that their mother was acting a bit more like her old self. Then they all left again.

Harry remained at the Burrow a few days after Molly's children (and daughters-in-law) had left. The night of December 29th had the two deep in conversation.

"Harry, I feel bad about lying to them."

"Molly, you're the one who wants to keep us secret."

"I know, I don't know how they'll react if we tell them...", he interrupted her.

"You mean WHEN we tell them. We can't keep the truth from them forever"

"....You're right Harry. Next time everyone's together, we'll tell them.", he smiled and kissed her forehead.

"That's my girl.", she gently took his wrist and guided him toward the stairs, a rather...naughty smile on her face. He took the hint.

* * *

Ginevra Weasley limped into the house, never having quite gotten used to the magical replacement for her left leg. She had been forced to work on some of her homework during the family holiday, and she had forgotten her potions textbook. She had thus apparated back to the house to pick it up. She heard some kind of rhythmic noise coming from above her, and fearing the worst, drew her wand and stalked up the stairs as smoothly and quietly as her false leg would allow her. The landing of the second floor brought the realization it was coming from her mother's bedroom. She snuck up to the door and slowly, carefully pushed it open a bit. The sound turned out to be a combination of a thumping, a squeaking and some deep moaning. It also brought to her vision a sight she would never forget.

There was her mother, completely uncovered from the waist up, the comforter hanging half way down her shapely ass and barely covering her lower body, though it was obvious she was in a kneeling up position. And the way everything was jiggling, she was obviously bouncing. The youngest Weasley was stunned for a moment, unable to ascertain the identity of her mother's bed partner at this angle. Then he sat up, wrapping his arms around her torso and she returning the favour and the teenager caught a glimpse of messy black hair, matted down by sweat. Completely ignoring stealth, she kicked the door open, finally garnering the attention of the occupants of the chamber.

Both Harry and Molly turned toward the door, flinching slightly both at the sound of it impacting with the wall and sight of the red haired fury standing in the vacated space. Her face was twisted in a nearly feral rage, wand in hand and both fists clenched hard enough that her knuckles were white and her nails had bitten into her palms and stance promising a liberal serving of pain. Everything was quite for a moment until Ginny opened her mouth.

"POTTER!! What the FUCK are you doing with my mother!? I'm going to tear your dick off you perverted asshole!", with this threat, she leaped toward the one time subject of her fantasies. She was, however, stopped when Molly interposed herself between the two, staring her youngest straight in the eyes. When Molly spoke, every syllable resonated with cold fury.

"No. You. Will. Not. You won't lay a finger on Harry.", the experience of being stared down by her very angry, very naked mother had robbed the girl of her voice, so Molly continued. "What we are doing is an entirely consensual act between two adults who care for each other. The one who really has cause to be angry here is me! You interrupted a really good fuck. You are my only daughter and I love you, but if you hurt Harry, I will show you just how bad an idea it is to get on my bad side.", the poorly veiled threat shook the room's youngest occupant out of her daze and she stared back defiantly.

"Mother! You're so much older than him, he's your son's best friend, your daughter's ex-boyfriend and the most eligible bachelor in the Wizarding World. Besides, you're....my MOTHER!! You can't...", she was cut off.

"What? I can't have sex? I can't be with someone? I can't get on with my life?", her tone quieted, but her gaze never left her daughter's. "Harry makes me happy, and I him. We love each other. I need to get on with my life and...", once again, an interruption.

"Are you just going to forget about dad?"

"No, never. I loved your father deeply. But he's dead, I almost died too because I couldn't fight my grief. Harry helped me with that. I have a life again. If you can't understand that, you are still welcome to stay here until you can find your own place, but I will not associate with you any more than I have to."

"No Molly.", Harry spoke up for the first time in this entire encounter from his position still on the bed, lower body covered modestly. "You've lost enough of your kids, please don't alienate Ginny. Your emotions are talking right now. I think we all need to sit down and discuss this and think calmly and rationally. How about the kitchen in five minutes?", Ginny quietly left the room and the lovers set about picking up clothes and making themselves decent.

* * *

The three sat around the kitchen table in the deceptively comfortable chairs, each studying a cup of tea, which Harry apparently had developed a knack for magicking up in his time as a busybody. They sat silently for several minutes, Ginny the first of them to speak up.

"I'm sorry for how I reacted. It was just a shock is all, to find my mother in bed with my ex. How long have you two been...?"

"About a month, dear."

"So, just after he visited me at school?"

"I'm sitting right here, and yes."

"Why didn't you tell us at Xmas"

"I was afraid of how you kids would react.", this silenced the younger, as she remembered her own reaction with a touch of shame.

"When are you going to tell the others?"

"The plan is to do it next time everyone's together."

"Alright, I won't tell the boys, but you two break the news at the next gathering. Deal?"

"Of course."

"Well, I'd best get back, classes start tomorrow."

With that, the youngest Weasley left the house, the idea of the two having sex still slightly unnerving to her, but it made her mom happy, and that was what counted. What no one was aware of however, was the new plot that would soon develop.

A/N: When I call Ginny a fury, I mean as in the Erinyes, the furies of Greek mythology. Instead of Christmas, I always use the more non-denominational Xmas. Next chapter is the boys, Hermione and Fleur finding out, as well as the introduction of a...furthering of this plot.


	5. Loyalty Among Discord

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. This a non-profit, strictly for fun piece of work.

Picking Up

Chapter 5: Loyalty Among Dischord

About 6 months had passed since that awkward night in December when young Ginny had inflicted coitus interruptus upon her mother and ex-boyfriend. The Graduation Feast at Hogwarts had concluded some hours ago and gathered in the living room of the Burrow was the remainder of the Weasley clan with a few '+1s'; Molly was seated with Harry on one side and Charlie on the other on one of the sofas, Ron and Hermione shared with Fred on the other, the Delacour sisters Fleur and Gabrielle sat together on the love seat, Remus Lupin was sitting backwards on a kitchen chair and the lady of the hour was perched upon the big old chair. The atmosphere was at once homey and joyful, but the thoughts of three of the occupants did not reflect such.

_They better make that announcement soon, or I'm going to be seriously disappointed in them._

_ Well, I hope they don't react TOO badly to this, they're still my friends._

_ I was really hoping to get Harry alone and talk to him before we had to make this announcement..._

The party had been dragging on for some time when Ginny finally lost her patience and tapped her glass firmly with her wand to call for silence.

"Friends! Family! I think Harry and mother have something to announce!", she shot them both a pointed look, brooking no argument. They had agreed to make this announcement the next time everyone was together and she would make sure they clove to it. The two lovers took in her gaze, then glanced at each other and stood. Every eye in the cozy room was on them. Harry, being the hero and gentleman he was spoke for them.

"My friends...this is very hard to say, and I'm sure most of you will look at me differently after tonight, but this can't go unsaid any longer. Molly and I...we're...", he fell momentarily silent as her hand snaked out to capture his and give it a reassuring squeeze, and to the occupants of the room with brains, this was more telling than anything Harry could have said, though no one did anything, all hanging on Harry's next words. "Molly and I are together. As in lovers."

The silence was like a dragon crouching in the corner. Then Ron poked it with his wand.

"Harry...do you mean to say that you and my mother are...?", said mother took her turn speaking.

"Yes Ronald, me and Harry are together 'in that way', and knowing your next question; yes we have had sex.", had the woman known what her words would goad her youngest son in to doing, she probably would have worded them differently. With a bellow of rage, Ron's lanky arm shot out and his fist collided with Harry's mouth. Given Harry's nigh superhuman reaction time, he could have easily dodged the blow, but he allowed it to connect, and it sent him sprawling to the carpet.

Harry was still for a moment before pushing himself to a sitting position, wiped the blood from where his lip had been cut, then stood up, staring evenly at his best friend, who was practically foaming at the mouth. Everyone else was shocked in to stupor at what had happened.

"What the FUCK Potter! Where the hell do you get off shagging my MOTHER!", he threw another meaty right hook at the bespectacled paramour, connecting with the side of his head, sending his glasses skittering across the floor. Harry simply staggered back, then looked back at his attacker.

"WHY!"

"Because I love her. That's why.", Harry doubled over after receiving a vicious shot to his lower ribs.

"Why the hell do you have to get everything you want?", Harry was silent, so Ron grabbed him by the collar and thrust him against the wall a few feet from the fireplace.

"How long Harry? How long have you been fucking my mother?", was the spittle launching, furious question.

"Seven months Ron. But we don't fuck, it's called making love or simply sex.", was the quiet reply. Ron swallowed heavily as though taking a very large pill.

"Seven months. That means dad had been dead...what...six months before you took his place?"

"I would never try and take his place Ron. Look deep inside, you know that. We've been through enough for you to know that.", the furious redhead ignored him, staring instead at his mother.

"Six months. Your husband is dead only six months and you crawl into bed with this asshole! You're nothing but a whore, a loose slag. I'm fucking disgusted to be your son." With his attention turned, the long time second fiddle never saw the counter attack coming. But he felt it.

A blow slammed into his chest harder than Harry's thin frame looked capable of, hard enough to send him sprawling to the ground, gasping for breath, looking up at the cold rage of his 8 year best friend. Harry's face was a mask of icy wrath as he stood over his downed best friend, and when he spoke, Ron learned what a number of death eaters and even Voldemort himself had learned that he had not; a well and truly angry Harry Potter was a more terrifying figure than any dark creature or magical beast.

"You will not talk to her like that. She got on with her life. That's all.", every syllable that escaped his lips gnashed its teeth in his rage. "If you cannot accept us together like this, then our friendship is over, and I will not be held responsible for my actions the next time you treat her like that." While he spoke, Ron had clambered to his feet and two locked eyes. Once again everything was still as a battle of wills took place. Ron's nod was barely perceptible.

"Alright, Harry. I suppose I'm alright with it. But if I EVER get word that you've hurt her, I will hunt you down, and I will kill you.", Ron's words were measured and obviously well thought through. Harry smiled grimly.

"You'd have to bring me back first, because I'm pretty sure I'd beat you to the punch.", with one final glance between the lovers, Ron backed down and retook his seat. Hermione, never one to keep her two cents to herself, was the next to speak.

"Well, Harry, I think you've made a great many women around Britain rather unhappy.", she mutters under her breath. "Not to mention everyone involved in the pool.", this last comment was not under her breath enough.

"Pool? What pool, Hermione.", the bookworm turned teacher grimaced.

"A number of teachers and former DA members have a pool going on who you end up with.", Harry's smile showed him as being accepting of this.

"Oh really, any frontrunners?"

"Uh...Minerva got in early and bet on Ginny, Filius has Susan Bones, Moony's got money on Cho..."

"And you, Hermione?", the young woman blushed.

"Harry, you know I can't bet."

"You can't lie either.", she sighs.

"Tonks...", a brief round of chuckles broke the silence most of the room had been under. Noone laughed harder than Harry, garnering him a few odd looks. He stops and looks around.

"What? Think about it, could you imagine two of the busiest people in the United Kingdom trying to work in a relationship? We'd be able to see each other for lunch every couple of weeks or so.", this garnered a new round of laughs and Harry sat himself back onto the sofa, draping an arm over Molly's shoulders. Some more idle chit-chat and general companionship followed before Harry felt Molly begin to slowly tense beside him. He broke off what he was saying to turn his head to look at her.

"Molly, what's wrong?", Molly was about to wave him off before she took note of the fact that the entire room was watching her again, and she heaved the sigh of the long suffering.

"Friends, family...everyone. My and Harry's relationship is not the only news tonight...", everyone's eyes were riveted on the older woman with curiosity, with a couple of exceptions whose eyes were dawning with realization. Her announcement was followed by a heavy silence.

"I'm pregnant."

A/N: Well, after a hell of a long time away, I'm back, with a new pen name, new computer and some free time. I can't guarantee that this, or any other stories I write will update regularly, but I'll endeavor to finish them...eventually.


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